Autumnal Days - Aurora Florealis
by Liminalish
Summary: Severus Snape and his new teaching assistant have some history to work out, but the Hogwarts grounds seem upset, beautiful places are destroyed and the weather turns more extreme by the day. What is going on along the Hogwarts wards? Rare potions ingredients. A special garden within the grounds Snape seems to know more about than he lets on. What will bloom? ss/hg. Slow burn.
1. Unsure What Altruism Is

A/N: It's a really autumn-y rainy day today, and it made me think of our favourite surly Slytherin. Disclaimer about the plants in post chapter notes.

Please bear with me during the expositional chapters, there's quite a lot to set up, as the plot became more complex as I expanded this story. :D

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Flash forward: "From where he was standing he could only see a semi-circle of anxious faces avoiding his gaze, and although they had called out her name just a second before, Ms. Granger was nowhere to be seen. His body moved forward of its own accord – his legs realizing that there was something wrong before his brain had fully processed the scene in front of him."

 **Unsure What Altruism Is**

 _ **265\. Amaranthus Caudatus (Amaranth, Love-lies-bleeding).** Being a widely applicable plant, Amaranth can be used to speed up healing – when dried strings of flowers are worn around the head – and to strengthen a disillusionment charm - when worn around the waist before casting the charm. It is often used to symbolise hopelessness and will attract those who wander into forests in a hopeless mental state. Older texts mention the plant can be useful in calling forth the spirits of those that have passed, particularly effective when there was a strong emotional connection to the one who has passed, as well as in potions for softening the blow of a broken heart or emotional rejection._

Over the edge of his nose he watched the raindrops race each other down the outside of the windowpanes while his own steady breathing created small foggy spots on the glass, quickly fading after each new breath. The gentle trick-trick-trickling on the roof of the tower comforted him, companionship in loneliness.

The air was fresh with the first autumn rain, and the sky painted with promises of a large change to come. While he scoured the Hogwarts grounds through the window, a small tuft of smoke made its way into the air from Hagrid's cottage.

 _This damnable month better be over as soon as possible._ He leaned against one of the rickety desks, but then his boot almost snagged the circular room's washed out red carpet. Annoyed, he used a whispered _incendio pianissimo_ to light some torches in the chilly room. The war has been over for 4 years now. Ever since the insufferable Granger, Weasley and Potter managed to levitate his sorry arse back to the castle before he lost all his blood, and gotten an irresponsible cocktail of experimental potions into him every month had been difficult. He hated feeling like he owed them.

A gaggle of soft steps along the hallway at the bottom of the tower signified that the morning lessons had concluded and students were rushing to the great hall for lunch. The war had instilled a cold that went into the marrow of his bones, and he had not yet found anything to even remotely begin thawing that ice.

Humming to herself, completely unaware of the lit candles and the man next to the window, Hermione made her way up the tower stairs and with a contented sigh, took a seat on a threadbare sofa as the rain pelted the windows.

This year, in her early twenties and bored with her ministry job, Hermione was looking for something different. When she'd told McGonagall, the elder witch had offered her an interview for one of the two vacancies for E.L.F.'s - or Examination & Learning Facilitator. The position meant that she was expected to watch over students preparing for their O.W.L's and N.E.W.T's, set practice exams, and point the students in the right direction if they were struggling.

To Severus, her return was more like the ghost of christmas past coming to haunt him. Her intrusion left him quietly seething at oblivious the woman in front of him. Even more frustrating, this room was not a part of his chambers, offices or classroom, nor was it off-limits for staff or students, and therefore he couldn't punish her.

Because there were little pressing exam issues at this time of year, McGonagall had suggested she'd intern with one of the professors, to broaden her horizons and maybe even help her figure out what she'd like to do to further her career.

Hermione had tentatively brought up the subject with Severus during dinner at the head table a week ago, gently probing if he'd ever had any interns. Severus knew what she was after.

When he pondered the subject before he went to sleep, he realized accepting her as an intern was a nice way to quiet his unquiet conscience about her help in saving him. Even though he was seething at her current inattentiveness - how dare she not be vigilant? - there was just... something about her that was different now.

The wind howled around the high tower and Hermione flipped to another page, still unaware of Severus.

Clearing his throat and straightening up he addressed her. "What is your business Ms. Granger?", he asked, a pause punctuating each word.

Her head shot up like a doe in the headlights. "I- am sorry sir I wasn't aware, normally there's no-one here and I- " She scrambled to grab her books. "I'll leave."

"Did I tell you to leave? I think I asked you a question."

"I just assumed that - "

"You will stay. Put your things down." He walked over to close the trapdoor to the stairs. "I have been meaning to talk to you."

Though he made his statement as if it was nothing out of the ordinary, it made her nervous.

"I have considered our recent... conversations. You are well aware I'm not inclined to honor favours. Considering you are very fond of pretending you know everything, I have a proposal for you."

She missed the mischievous glint in his eyes as he spoke. "You came to me a while ago expressing your interest in the field of Potions. Naturally, I will not just provide something without anything in return. I have considered our options carefully. I have decided to offer you an assistantship, lasting for a minimum of three months."

Her heart swelled at this opportunity, but she knew she would do well to keep her excitement hidden. "But?", she asked hesitantly.

"Nothing but. This is the deal. You will spend Sunday and Wednesday evenings with me, preparing ingredients for the coming week, assist me in brewing and teaching, and performing other tasks an assistant would be expected to perform."

"...and if I do well you will also be willing to act as a reference should I need one?"

"Providing you do well do not behave like the know-it-all you have the tendency to be."

After all these years Hermione was more or less used to his sour mood. Though it would cost her loads of time, it seemed a rather good offer, almost suspiciously so. The ease with which he agreed to act as a reference was startling. A reference from the respected and notable - after Harry had set the record straight - Severus Snape. Her survival instinct was still sharp after having spent so much time on the run, and something in her gut said she should think carefully before entering into a deal with him.

"Would you be willing to let me think about it for a few days?"

Her hesitation surprised him, he'd expected her to jump at a chance like this. "Offers like these don't come by every day Ms. Granger..." He stood and made his way towards the trapdoor.

As he walked away from her she turned up her nose. _I'm not playing mind games with him_. "Then I suppose you won't have an assistant the coming months."

With a swish of his sleeve the candles were blown out, the afterglow of the wicks producing little turrets of smoke that spread a haze around the room. "You have two days to decide, after that you'll have to find another option." And with those words the trapdoor was open and he was making his way down the stairs below, disappearing into the crowds that filled the hallways, his cloak billowing behind him.

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I've got some ideas to continue this, if there's any interest. Please review so I know, one word will already help! :D I sort of need those to stay motivated enough to write on.

Draco will probably be there in the next chapter. This might become my first long fic, I've got two shorter ones up already.

DISCLAIMER: I know you're probably smart enough but just to be sure: Do not experiment with any of the plants in this story. While a lot of research went into this, most of it is primarily fiction. Do not play around with any of the plants mentioned in the story there is no guarantee they do anything described and some are also highly toxic without it being mentioned explicitly, or might be dangerous when ingested, burned or spread throughout a space. No rights can be derived from anything connected to this story. You know the drill. Hugs and kisses, Liminalish.


	2. Spectators Spectated

Jaybat, Thank you for your encouraging words! Not to give away too much but for what I've got planned the garden will definitely play a significant part in the story.

Please think about leaving a review, it really helps with keeping that motivation going! (something I often struggle with haha)

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 **The spectators spectated**

 _ **17\. Lathyrus Odoratus (Sweet Pea).** Sweet Pea is a fairly new species, so there is not a lot of known history on the use of this plant. However, the flower's pleasant smell has made it very desirable in the magical communities in use for sfumato magic, in which pleasant smelling fumes can be used to elicit certain moods or enhance them. This plant in particular is used strengthen the bond of trust, loyalty and affection in couples, or between two people who have a mutual attraction. In the language of flowers sweet pea is often used to indicate 'farewell and thank you for a lovely time'. It blooms once annually, during late spring or early summer, and has toxic properties._

Hermione's morning had been filled with sitting in on different professor's tutorials such as Arithmancy and Transfiguration. It went quite well, but guiding students through the handkerchief to bed-with-linen transfiguration had been tricky. The lessons went by fast enough, though, and there wouldn't be any lessons in the afternoon; there was quidditch instead.

The hearths roared in the Great Hall, and although the sky had cleared a little, it was still bone-chillingly cold outside. Particularly today, winds like oversized leaf-blowers combed the Hogwarts grounds. Hermione grabbed a ladle and poured herself a big bowl of steaming hot pumpkin soup, leaving it to cool slightly as she sipped her butterbeer. The hall smelled homely, like the Hogwarts she knew from before the war, and the table wreaths with pinecones and berries added just the right amount of autumnal cosiness.

Ever since that conversation the tower, her mind had been overflowing with thoughts going back and forth. She groaned and dropped her forehead to the table.

Somewhere deep down she knew this assistantship was a rare opportunity. As the hours had passed since the conversation in the tower she felt the pressure of deciding increase. A slap on her shoulder awoke her from her reverie.

"Wake up, there's quidditch in a minute Granger. We've got a bet on, remember? Slytherin vs Gryffindor?"

She groaned. "Bugger off Draco."

"Nah Granger, you know everyone expects us to attend anyway."

"I know, I know," she sighed as she dragged herself up from the table, "I'll be there in a minute, just go ahead."

"Whatever," Draco rolled his eyes and let out a dramatic sigh, "see you there." He made his way back to the grand doors at the end of the hall, almost knocking a first year Hufflepuff to the ground as he did so.

At the request of his parents – though it was slightly more forced than a request – Draco too, had returned to Hogwarts to finish his final year after spending a couple of years working and traveling. Lucius and Narcissa had been of a very strong opinion that Draco should get his diploma, and they'd insisted he'd return to Hogwarts for the pedagogical sake of not leaving things half-done. Hermione had finished her exams as soon as possible, then worked for a desk job at the ministry for a couple of years.

Although Draco had been reluctant at first as he wanted to travel more - part of the reason he waited four years before returning - was that he secretly did not mind being back all that much. The sheer mundanity of being back at Hogwarts, going through the daily rut of lessons and studying, felt strangely safe.

For their reputation, Draco was offered the position of head boy, and both him and Hermione both had a private room in the prefect's corridor. It was situated on the first floor, running perpendicular to the great hall along an enclosed garden on the ground floor, which provided their cosy prefect's common room with an abundantly coloured window view. It was about thrice the size of the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, rectangular but with little alcoves with benches and sculptures.

In the late autumn afternoons, the garden bathed in warm sunlight scattered around the garden flanked by the ancient walls. There was only one entrance, on the top right, a carved ebony door that was partly kept from view by ivy. She'd never quite figured out to which ground floor corridor the other side of the gold-handled door led, but she longed to see everything from up close.

The side closest to the window was covered small sections of plants in an intricate pattern, each tile of the plant mosaic surrounded by a thin thicket of boxwood. Some trees were studded around the garden, some familiar - at least one Wiggentree, some unfamiliar.

A path led from between the trees to the top left of the garden where it sloped off to short stairs into corner that held a glimmering pond which gave of a turqoise lustre. The water was so clear that through it, you could see the walls running into the bottom, the surface rippling gently from the fountain.

Hermione knew that at night – for she was often restless - the mysterious glow that attracted small emberflies, the magical cousins of the firefly. When the weather was freezing, a bush of flame berries gave off small tufts of gently perfumed steam that Hermione could smell if she opened the window.

Though he had changed after the war, Draco could still be quite difficult at times, and both him and Hermione still had wounds. Neither of them would openly admit that they were secretly glad that there was another familiar face of their own age, someone who knew what the situation on the front-line had been like during all those years. On particularly bad nights, they could both be found in the prefect's common, sometimes talking quietly about what was keeping them up, sometimes merely sitting in an understanding silence.

She ate the last few spoonfuls of soup, savouring the hearty comforting taste, and stuffed her books in her bag. Her low heels clucked on the tiles as she made her way out of the hall and into the cold of the Hogwarts grounds, which were still damp from last night's rain. The smell of pine trees wafted through the air as she walked towards the quidditch field with a frightened looking group of Chickadee running out in front of her, peeping loudly as they did. She laughed to herself.

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It wasn't long until she made it to the quidditch field. Several levels high, the stands lined the oval field and despite the cold weather, buzzing crowds sporting green and red clothes filled them to capacity. Her hair was blown in all directions as walked up to the eastward stands to meet Draco. One night a week ago in the prefects common room they'd shaken on a bet of 25 galleons that their team would win.

It was lucky for both the players and the spectators quidditch was an aerial sport as the field below was a muddy mess of leaves and twigs that had blown over from the forest. Hagrid had not had time to keep the grounds much this week; instead he had spent tending to his pumpkins and preparing his blast-ended skrewts for the upcoming winter, with unexpected cold spells plaguing Hogwarts ever more often.

The musty smell of the stadium stairs drifted around her as she made her way up to the third level. It woud be odd to watch Gryffindor play with neither Harry, nor Ron and Ginny in the team.

The wind was still blowing fiercely in the stands, so she pulled her scarf around her a little tighter when she made it out of the staircase. Conveniently, Draco had already found them a place to sit, not far away from where she'd watched Ron's tryouts against Cormac McLaggen. Draco stood and clambered up the steps to greet her.

"You finally made it up here Granger."

"Yes Draco, I'm also very glad to see you", she said sarcastically.

"I brought us hot chocolate with marshmallows for during the game, and I had them add a shot of espresso to your to wake your sleepy arse up".

Hermione huffed. "I told you before, I wasn't sleeping."

"Excuses. Excuses. Come over, it's about to start, I hope you've got your cash with you!"

After all these years the Hogwarts house rivalry was more playful but no less intense than before and with Gryffindor vs Slytherin being a classic match, many bets had been set. Most of these weren't for money - of course - but in the hallways many whispered promises for the exchanges of homework or a treat from Honeydukes' could be heard by those who listened carefully. Even McGonagall had been spotted shaking hands with Flitwick at the breakfast table, after he had been heard proclaiming that 'surely Slytherin will be better today, your Gryffindors are too reckless, nothing like my Ravenclaws', to which her quietly muttered reply had been, 'well at least they haven't yet been accused of cheating yet this school year, unlike those Slytherins you are suddenly so fond of.'

The game kicked off with a fierceness that rivalled that of the games Harry, Ron and Ginny used to play. Just half a minute in, James McKinnon, a 4th year Slytherin chaser, was gliding along the watch towers vertically, only to have the back end of his broom knocked sideways by a well-aimed bludger from the Gryffindor beater. It sent him into a downward spin, making him lose both his balance and the quaffle. The red-and-golds took possession and not long afterwards a loudly cheering Hermione sat next to a dramatically huffing Draco.

"...AND OLIVIA BYRD SCORES THE FIRST GOAL FOR GRYFFINDOR!"

Draco smacked his thighs in annoyance, and Hermione laughed at him. "Seems like you're going to be the one who'll have to pay up."

He made a face at her, "Seems like you might be the one meh meh meh", Draco mocked in a high-pitched voice.

"I wouldn't pull such an 'attractive' face if I were you, Draco," she scolded, rolling her eyes, "that girl over there has been looking at you since the start of the game", she said as she pointed a few rows down to their right.

His attention sharpened instantly. "Which girl?"

"That one, really dark brown hair, with the lacquer bag next to her."

"But that's Astoria Greengrass", he said bewilderedly.

"So?"

"Nothing", Draco said curtly.

"Ooh I see", Hermione mused out loud, "you like her."

"Sshh, not so loud!"

"Ahhh, Draco why hadn't you told me yet!"

Hermione could see the tiniest tinge of red on his alabaster cheeks, but Draco avoided all eye-contact. "Do not. Now stop it."

"Yes and McGonagall is cheering for Slytherin. It's okay to admit it, she's pretty, and a pureblood – your parents must like that."

"I. Do. Not. Like. Anyone. Here. In. That. Way."

"Draco I was only teas-"

He grabbed her forearm. "- and you should know better than to mention blood-status, you of all people, don't you remember what I saw them do to you through because of that?! In my own home?!"

"I-"

"Just watch the match." He let go of her arm as if she burned him.

With that the conversation was over. Even though Hermione was fairly sure she was on the right track about his feelings for Astoria, she knew not to press the subject. If he wanted to, he'd talk about it in his own time. After knowing him for so long - and getting to know him in a different light once they'd returned to Hogwarts - she was quite familiar with his mood swings and his temper.

There seemed to be some sort of commotion around the Gryffindor hoops. Mrs. Hooch had to blow off when one of the Slytherin beaters had threw their beater's bat at the Gryffindor keeper when she was blocking his way. The threat of a bigger fight lingered for a few tense moments, but after a few dirty looks to each other and susurrations from their teammates, the match continued.

Driven by this incident both teams upped their game, though Slytherin was the first to score after the confrontation.

"10 POINTS! BRILLIANT EFFORT FROM SLYTHERIN'S McKINNON, PITY THE GRYFFINDOR BEATERS JUST WEREN'T FAST ENOUGH THIS TIME!"

"Anyway," said Draco scratching his ear awkwardly, unable to bear the heavy silence between them, "what have you done to Snape? He's been looking at us as if he is trying to burn our heads off."

"OH THE GRYFFINDOR SEEKER NEARLY ENDED THE GAME RIGHT THEN AND THERE!"

"He's what?!"

"It can hardly have anything to do with me," Draco shrugged, "I've hardly spoken to him the last few weeks."

When they caught Snape looking at them from across the field, he quickly averted his eyes. Hermione explained to Draco how she came across Snape in the tower just days earlier, and the conversation that took place afterwards.

Draco looked as if he had seen a Thestral for the first time. He seemed to have forgotten all about his rudeness earlier and listened to her intently.

"Not that it's really any of my business Granger, but you _are_ going to accept that offer, right?"

"Well that's the problem! I don't know if I should. Spending half of my free evenings with Snape in the dungeons with him staring down my fingers isn't exactly the most attractive image. He's so demanding, dunno if I'll be able to keep up."

"Do you even know how rare it is for him to offer such a thing instead of people begging him for it? Trust me he's not as bad as he seems, honestly."

"How would you know how exactly?"

"I'll ignore you're incredulous tone there since I shouldn't have been so cross with you a minute ago, but he comes 'round the manor quite often. Him and dad are old friends."

A meek "Oh" was the only reply she could think of. _Of course they are_.

The cheering crowds obscured nearly all coherent words, so Draco leaned in closer and laid his hand on her wrist as he implored: "Trust me, if you've got any sense in that pretty head of yours, you will accept. You will not find a more respected potions master in the United Kingdom – even if he can be a bit of a git sometimes – and this is an offer he won't repeat."

She swallowed nervously as she realised that this made sense. This was indeed an amazing chance, not just for the exams, but also for later. This interntship would also mean she could learn about rarer potions, different from what she had learned during her student years at Hogwarts.

Draco tilted back the last drops of his hot chocolate and as Gryffindor scored yet again. At the opposite end of the pitch, Snape furrowed his brows at the intimacy between that odd pair of companions at the other end of the field. _I was positive those two hated each other._

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I was so nervous about posting this; please review. They're much appreciated, it really helps with keeping that motivation going!

 **Important:** in a later edit I've shortened and combined chapter 2 and 3 into one chapter.

A/N: Okay, so during the writing process I skipped ahead a few times to write a rough draft of another scene where someone gets hurt and idk man it tugged on my heartstrings a little.

 _Some of the descriptions were based on the Gruyere Jardins. In this story she's in her last year just as Draco and Hermione came back. Draco and Hermione are 22, Astoria is 18, Snape is still about 38._

 _I like to think that Hermione and Draco could become a sort of odd pair of friends, that their differences might have softened a little after the war and that their furious studying and fire could provide some heated debates in the prefect's common room. That, and having come back to Hogwarts, being the only person's besides teachers they're very familiar with does shape a bond. They've got an interesting dynamic in any case._


	3. Lions and Serpents

For those reading this story as it's being written, by the time this chapter is posted I have done some editing on the previous chapters.

It's not what I'd consider major changes in plotting, though each chapter now starts with an extra bit anyone reading this might find interesting to keep an eye on. These fragments will play a role eventually, so keep them in mind :D

Please consider leaving a review, I'm so curious to see what you think :)

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 **Chapter 4. Lions and Serpents**

 ** _394\. Asphodelus(Asphodel)._** _Asphodel is a plant often associated with death for its slightly pallid, grey colour. This connection is already established in Greek Mythology: it was planted on graves and often connected with Persephone – the goddess of the underworld – who in many depictions appears to be crowned with a garland of the flowers of this plant, which have six petals and grow together in the shape of an upturned pinecone. Building on the connection with death, the plant is often used by individuals to symbolise regrets that will follow them to the grave. It has been said the roots can remedy poisonous snake bites, and even fight the effects of bites inflicted by magical serpent creatures._

" ... and an 'acceptable' for Malfoy for insubordinance when I requested the pear-shaped vials, and lastly McKinnon gets an _exceeds expectations_ for 'learning attitude' this lesson. For next week I want you all to write 2 feet of parchment on the correct applications on avoiding the toxic properties of wolfsbane petals while preparing the plant for potions."

These instruction we're followed by loud groans, but Snape didn't even bat an eyelid at this. "You're seventh years, you'll be taking your exams in a few months and it would be preferable if you knew how _not_ to kill yourselves in order to take them. Class dismissed."

Impatient shuffling of chairs and tables almost blurred out his additional request. "Speaking of exams, I'd like to talk to the following people in order; Olivia Byrd, Conall Frazer and," he paused for the briefest of moments as he looked around the departing students with a smirk, fixing on the curly haired young woman who was just turning to leave, "...Hermione Granger."

She had been sitting in on a seventh year potions lesson. Some of her (ex-)classmates shot her curious looks, though she decided to shrug and feign ignorance, as this was much easier than actually explaining the situation.

Hermione and Conall, a tall, good-looking 7th year Gryffindor with whom Hermione shared the occasional study session, hung back while Snape talked to Olivia.

As Hermione was both a war heroine and a few years older than the rest, she had a reputation that preceded her on every level. Conall leant in closer. "What on earth have you done? He never needs to see you," he whispered.

Deciding not to want to appear to be a teacher's pet, she laughed and rolled her eyes. "I suppose he wants to tell me off in private for raising my hand to often and not giving the students a moment to think."

"Always the critic," Conall nodded. A few seconds later he was called forward.

Olivia gave Hermione a small wave as she walked towards the door, her dark brown hair fluttering behind her. She looked okay, so Hermione gauged that Snape was not having one of his I-will-make-everyone's-life-miserable days. She sighed with relief and studied her nails while Snape and Conall rounded up. Remarkably, the dungeons had become less gloomy and dank during since the war; in fact the whole castle seemed fresher. She supposed that McGonagall had invested in proper ventilation in these particularly old parts of the ancient castle. Even though for the time when it was built the plumbing was rather advanced – considering the chamber and the elaborate pipes down below – the founders had not always kept an eye on the ventilation in the long run. Still studying the wall, she thought about how homely the castle had always felt, even despite its enormous size, until a slow, deep voice interrupted her train of thought.

"I presume the walls look irresistibly interesting miss Granger, but I do not have all day." He said from behind his desk.

She walked over with her chin up and shoulders back, determined not to be outdone by his attempt to intimidate her. "So, you wanted to see me," she stated, knowing full-well what this would be about.

"Two days have elapsed miss Granger, what has your brilliant mind told you to do?", said Snape punctuating every word with precision. He attempted to look decisively uninterested, but a minuscule tightening of the grip on his quill revealed he cared a little more about what her answer would be than he was willing to let on.

Although he should have known better than to doubt the war heroine in front of him, he had half expected her Gryffindor courage to fail her this time. His eyes widened a tiny amount when she replied with a peremptory 'yes'.

Snape felt conflicted. On hand he started this whole plan to let her do the dirty work, but on the other hand but he was fairly certain that if he needed an assistant anyway, he'd rather have Hermione than many of the others that had whined to be his assistant over the years. He had, on a few rare occasions, allowed someone to follow in his wake, but usually no longer than a day or two, let alone a few weeks, but he had never really offered someone an internship of his own accord.

Even now he was only doing it to get even without out-right having to thank her in person for saving his life. He was sure he could provide Hermione with enough potions knowledge to clear his own conscience, and she would – hopefully – not be as interfering as the young man he'd misjudged a decade and a half ago; a seemingly bright and honest student who turned out to prefer raiding Snape's personal storage cupboard. _Well,_ he thought _, even if she can be a know-it-all, at least she is meticulous and studious, and importantly: not a thief._

"But –" she stated. Snape's carefully placed mask cracked just a little when he frowned minimally in surprise: he had not expected 'conditions'.

" – I want you to teach me a potion of my choice every two-weeks" she finished, raising a challenging eyebrow. A strange feeling boiled within him. Indignation? Anger? He couldn't quite put his finger to it, but he felt like he was being played like a puppet on a string.

The tension was palpable; a lion and a serpent staring each other down, waiting to see who would strike first. Snape put his hands flat on the surface of his polished ebony desk, and rose from his chair slowly and deliberately, not breaking eye contact as he loomed over Hermione in all his dark intimidation.

His stare bore down on her, but she refused to yield.

"And... for what purpose would that be?" he asked finally, conceding that the infernal young woman was uninfluenced. He had to give her that, as her peers and sometimes even his own peers were fairly easily unsettled by his trademark stare.

She didn't want to flatter him, but infuriatingly she had to. "I know being your apprentice is a very desired position, but apart from that privilege alone, which you have so kindly offered to me, I desire some kind of compensation in return. As money would feel both excessive – we are both recipients of a generous war stipend – and awkward, I desire knowledge that only a true potions master can divulge."

"I think it is up to me, miss Granger, to put conditions into place."

"I think it is up to me, _professor_ , to propose conditions under which I either accept or refuse your offer," she countered.

 _Bugger_. He thought, she had him cornered and she knew it.

He had to admit this was a very Slytherin thing to think of, and a very Gryffindor thing to bring it up in conversation. Compared to what she had seen during what was supposed to have been her seventh year – he guesssed– his non-verbal intimidation was just another heated look in a row of many. After encountering Bellatrix' torture, Snape rising from behind his desk was about as frightening as someone leaving a breakfast table while still half asleep.

He knew the war had hardened her as it had many people. But with Hermione in particular, after her return to Hogwarts, he could see how that just a little the Gryffindor spring in her step had subsided, and when she carried her books, her shoulders tensed just a fraction more than necessary – than before the war – and even though she raised her hand just as often, some of the eagerness had diminished.

He knew because he too, still suffered. Even though he was an skilled occlumens, at night, when mental wards were weaker, horrible memories still made it to the surface. He often woke up heaving and bathing in sweat, clawing at the fading mark on his forearm. For a fleeting moment he wondered what Hermione's residual damage was.

Snape could find no argument sufficient to counter her request. With an exasperated sigh the potions master pinched the skin between his eyebrows and his hair fell forward. "Provided I get a say in whether I deem them appropriate for others to be acquainted with and use in any way they desire." He declared from under the curtain of ink-black locks.

"You can't honestly suspect me of any dark intentions Severus."

"Take it or leave it miss Granger. And that is Professor Snape to you."

"Okay, _professor,_ I'll agree to that."

He was beginning to wonder if clearing his conscience in this way was the best idea, but there was no backing out now. He'd been a double spy for Merlin's sake, even though he was a solitary man, he should be able to handle a young woman with a thirst for knowledge – even if said woman was a Gryffindor.

Snape held his hand out to shake on it. "You'll be present in at least one lesson each week – eventually I might let you teach one - and on Wednesday and either Saturday or Sunday evening, you'll help me prepare ingredients. I'll teach you your potion of choice during or after the Saturday or Sunday sessions."

"Naturally, professor" she said as she received a surprisingly gentle but firm handshake.

With a finalising nod the two parted. Hermione slung bag over her shoulder, turned and strutted away with her head held high, while behind her, Snape sank back in his chair to go over the recently handed-in essays.

.~-~-~-.

Later in the evening, Hermione had made herself comfortable on a soft couch in front of a lively hearth in the prefect's common room, leaving the beautiful window view to the garden on her right. This day had been exhausting, with a 5 hours practice prep for some students – no breaks – in the afternoon, the conversation with Snape, and preparations for Arithmancy practise and a ton of reading for History of Magic. The latter subject she still had to finish 2 chapters for, which is why she had brought a big mug of tea to fuel herself through those final pages for the evening.

She tried, but couldn't help herself when she dozed off on the couch in the comforting embrace of wood-fueled warmth. Her dreamless and soothing sleep lasted until about 10 minutes after the Hogwarts tower struck midnight. It was at that moment Draco made his way back from the library which closed at midnight, and gave Hermione a rude awakening with a pillow, as he'd tossed it from a large reading chair and hit her square in the head.

She shot up in shock. "What in Merlin's name was that good for?!"

The blonde young man laughed at her indignant look. "Sleeping is what you do in bed Granger!" He winked at her. "Well, that and other things!"

"Prat! That nearly cost me my mug AND my book!"

He waved his hands in mock-concern. "Shh, you'll wake the prefects."

"Oh Merlin, Draco!" She groaned exasperatedly as she made her way the door on the left.

The curly-haired woman stormed out, leaving behind a sniggering Draco Malfoy.

Out in the torch-lit corridor she turned right, and then left after a few metres to find the comfort of her own, private, head-girl room. To her surprise, on the floor was a letter with her name in slender and elongated writing, but no specific address. It must have come from someone inside Hogwarts.

The wax seal was midnight blue, decorated with the image of a pinecone shaped cluster of six-petal flowers that had long and narrow filaments in the center. She wedged it off with her thumbnail and swiftly pulled the parchment out of the envelope.

 _"Coming Monday, first period, you will attend a tutorial for third year Gryffindors and Slytherins. We will be discussing the theory behind the forgetfulness potion; you might want to prepare yourself. On Wednesday, meet me in front of the large potions classroom at 7:30 to help me prepare ingredients._

 _Yours truly,_

 _Severus Snape"_

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AN: Please consider leaving a review if you've read until here (which I really appreciate by the way, thank you for taking the time out of your day!) :) when I'm struggling to write, reviews are what keep me going. Next chapter, the first lesson Hermione attends as assistant.

Ooh six-six petal flowers in a pinecone shaped cluster? hmmm, where in these chapters did we mention a plant? and what does said plant look like according to _ye olde encyclopedia_ (or google images haha)?


	4. Not to be Taken Lightly

A/N: Sorry my muse had taken a holiday.

Sorry that there's much time between chapters. I've been struggling with my health, which doesn't help my inspiration. Thank you for your continued support. Thanks for taking the time to review, it really helped me to continue this story, I thrive on them; it lets me know that someone is reading this.

Reviews etc. are incredibly appreciated. It's what prompted me to update this even though it's been a while.

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 _ **78\. Rosa Rubiginosa** **(Eglantine roses)  
** Some species of Eglantine roses have a baroque abundance of petals. Rose water extracted from these species can be used to soak ones attire, and then leave it to dry, to give medium-strength protection from harmful substances and weak poisons. This method will only give marginal protection against direct jinxes and not even any other types of spells. Different kinds of roses can be a symbol for different feelings. Eglantine roses, for example, symbolise that someone has a wound to heal, either physical, emotional or both. Damask Roses on the other hand, are said to attract beauty, both external and internal. Many witches and wizards like to boil rose petals for a gentle tincture to treat the skin, particularly after being affected by potions or fumes._

 **Chapter 5. Not to be Taken Lightly**

 _You can do this. You fought off trolls, you've fought off death eaters, you found horcruxes. A class of 15 year olds can't be that bad._

The giant Hogwarts clock struck nine, its sound reverberating through the walls like a heartbeat. _Okay okay, keep it cool. Shoulders back, head high. And breathe..._

The door opened with a reluctant creek. As she walked in, Snape appeared to have just started telling the class what they'd be doing today. When he locked eyes with Hermione he let out a disappointed sigh.

The students turned around to see who had just entered, expecting one of their classmates dashing in last minute, but their eyes widened as they realised who had just entered: _the_ Hermione Granger. All through the room, young witches and wizards were elbowing each other and pointing while murmuring excitedly.

"Focus please", Snape demanded from his vantage point next to the blackboard. "Ms. Granger if you would be so kind as to take a seat over there -", he said pointing to the empty chair at the left side of the classroom " –so I can finish the instructions," he spat with biting acerbity.

Her cheeks flushed as the echo her heels produced bounced off the walls in the now dead-silent classroom. When she was halfway towards the window, one of the loudest wolf-whistles she had heard in her life joined the echoes of her footfall.

In a reflex her head lurched towards the source, just in time to see a blonde Gryffindor boy shoulder the Slytherin next to him and shake with laughter.

Her head was shining like a beacon, and she almost ducked down as she heard a frighteningly cold voice from behind her.

"10 points, Fairclough. See me after class."

The boy grinned, but at least he was quiet now. As the tension dissolved, Hermione sat down while Snape continued his explanation.

"Miss. Granger will be helping us out during the coming few weeks. Well, as you all have read, we are discussing the most crucial ingredients of today; Lethe river water and mistletoe berries."  
One wave of his wand, and behind him on the blackboard intricate diagrams of ethereal but harrowing looking creatures appeared. "The valerian, we discussed last week. In Greek mythology, tortured souls drunk from the Lethe river to forget their sins, which is why it has been so effective in forgetfulness potions. The mistletoe berries help control these effects of the Lethe water, but be careful while cleaning the ingredients. The berries of the plant are relatively safe, but the rest of the plant is extremely toxic. Any questions so far? I hope not too many, as you have already studied this potion in your first year."

While most pupils tried to avoid accidental eye contact, the same Gryffindor boy – Hermione presumed that was the young mister Fairclough – raised his hand.

Snape's exasperation was plain. "What is it Fairclough?", he asked as he pinched his brow. Both Snape himself and Hermione on her stool at the edge of the classroom wished he hadn't asked.

The boy gave a rude grin as he asked "Miss Granger, why are you single again? My auntie said to my mum she read in _Witch Weekly_ that it was because Ron Weasley cheated on you!"

"That is 50 house points you impertinent little bra-", Snape started, but he couldn't finish because Hermione stood and stepped in. She approached him without wavering as the class looked on with baited breath.

"That is right, I am single." She replied coldly. "Do you have any problems with that mr. Fairclough? Or any solutions perhaps?"

"N-no miss."

"No? Then I suggest you let professor Snape finish his explanation," she said with an oddly sweet voice, "it will benefit you much more, particularly your assessment for potions, than letting your mind wander on my personal life."

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A/N: A short one this time, just to let you know I'm still working on this. Just not feeling like myself.

Reviews are much appreciated. It's literally what prompted me to update this even though it's been a while.

Woah, though I picked the McKinnon name after researching surnames for a little while, while re-reading Deathly Hallows over Christmas I noticed there's a mention of a McKinnon family, now I'm wondering if I picked that name because it had subconsciously stuck with me as something from HP. Strange, but interesting. The mind is a mystery.


	5. (Im)patience

A/N: Hi here's the rest, this and the previous one were originally one chapter, but was determined to show you I was still working on this so I posted the first part earlier. There's been a little bit of editing on the previous chapters, nothing huge. Just thought I'd let you know.

I'd be much obliged of you'd consider leaving a review , I thrive™ on them.

~~~~-I've already mentioned previously that the ratings might go up in later 's a mention of some possibly M rated stuff (?) in this chapter, but it's not explicit. One instance of swearing. But, if you're easily unsettled by these things you're warned.-~~~~

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 **Chapter 6 (Im)patience**

 **89. _Monarda_ (Bergamot, Beebalm)**

 _Monarda is a member of the mint family, and sports pink to purple clusters of flowers when blooming. Cutting the flowers when they are in full bloom will encourage more abundant blooming, providing the grower with more petals to use as desired. Like with the Sweet Pea the petals are also used in_ sfumato magic _, in which pleasant smelling fumes can be used to elicit certain moods and emotions or enhance them. When used in this way, this plant is_ _a particularly fruitful ingredient in eliciting dormant psychic powers as well as occlumency and legilimency (when they haven't been exercised in a while), and increasing a couples' fertility. In healing magic, this plant is used to make anti-bacterial is very effective in counteract persistent itching-jinxes._

In such cases as these, it was particularly clear Hermione had gotten used to spending her life in the limelight. The boy's comment was one in a row of many, and far from being the worst she's ever heard. Yes, they hurt, but after the emotional pain of the war even her public break-up with Ron didn't hurt as much as she expected.

She and Ron tried – in vein – to stay together, but after months in a relationship that started to feel more familial than romantic there was that never-spoken-of-again evening at Draco's birthday. They'd both had a little too much firewhiskey and butterbeer, but Ron found it in himself to end up being walked in on by Hermione as he was in a dark alcove of the hallway. He had his trousers down and a willing witch kneeling in front of him.

Hermione had only been on the way to get some more butterbeer from the pantry, but got much more than that. She was sure she would never get rid of the memory of Ron's leaning back as ecstatic open-mouthed moans escaped him, with the eagerly bobbing head of the girl in front of him.

She stepped back in shock, nearly tripping over one of the many bags laying in the hallway. Startled from the sound, Ron opened his eyes. When they caught each other's eye Ron scrambled awkwardly trying to catch her, apologising profusely and yelling "it's not what it looks like" but it was too late for any real patch-up to take place.

Not wanting to be humiliated even further, let alone having to see the face of the woman in front of Ron, Hermione quickly made her way outside, to the back of the garden, hoping not to be found until she composed herself.

Tears were rolling quietly when Ron touched her shoulder. "I'm sorry 'Mione, I never wanted it to happen like this."

"Then how did you want it to happen! Yes we've been going through a rough patch but I didn't start fucking around with other people! How long has this been going on!?"

"I-"

"No Ron, I do not want to hear it! I know we weren't what we used to be, but I was willing to work for it."

"We should have taken a break back then."

"Yes we should have, but don't worry, you'll get the peace you wanted now. I need space, from you, from this," she gestured around them, "we should've intervened much earlier." And then she left.

Ron tried to speak but didn't run after her. If there was any chance in hell he'd come off relatively unscathed he knew he should just leave it right then and there. He'd made a grave mistake, and he'd have to lie on it for the time being.

Their breakup was swift, but given their post-war status as well as the amount of people who saw Hermione leave the party teary eyed and didn't hesitate to tell the gossip columnists, also very public. Soon the whole wizarding world knew.

She travelled around the world for a few weeks, keeping contact with the home front at a minimum. She travelled to wizarding communities around the world, learning about new kinds of magic and use of plants and their flowers too. She'd been fascinated by the magic that is inherent in the world, and how powerful it is, if one only knows how to channel it. She developed a great interest in potions because of it.

It took a while but she forgave Ron for his worse than poor timing in breaking the news to her that he no longer felt the same way as at the start of their relationship.

Harry was utterly disappointed, and maybe most of all Molly Weasley, at hearing the news of their split. She'd always seen Hermione as one of her own, and her and Ron's relationship had been the cherry on top.

As Hermione and Ron had always been so close, their social lives were unavoidably intertwined, and therefore it was much better for them to stay on friendly terms after the 'situation'. It was easier for them because they'd both known their flame had been dwindling slowly. They also did not have much of a choice. Appearing sulky, cold and difficult at charity events where they were invited as the golden trio would be very much frowned upon.

Eventually, particularly through Harry's help, they managed to find some comfort and happiness in being friends again. As time passed during Hermione's travels, both learned how to be single again, giving them a blank slate to rebuild their relationship on a different note. And eventually even Molly conceded they were probably better off that way in the long run.

Severus felt an odd sense of pride swell in his chest at Hermione's curt and controlled retort. He kept his explanation about the ingredients' properties short, as the whole incident already took up enough precious lesson time.

The students bustled around to find their ingredients and started brewing.

"Hermione, a word please," said Snape in the hustle and bustle of students. "You'll be walking around and keeping an eye on their experiments, only help if it's necessary for safety, and _don't_ give them all the answers."

"Yes, Sir."

The lesson got going swiftly, though Hermione was glad she did not have to lecture yet. She walked around, answering questions and introducing herself to the students individually.

The large potions classroom – as opposed to the smaller one – had a row of a few tiny square windows at the top of the wall, through which some daylight made its way into the room, illuminating the illustrious fumes emitted by the fresh potions.

As pupils finished preparing the ingredients and started the actual brewing process, the class got busier. Little hands shot up spread around the room to ask if their potion was turning the right colours, or to ask for help in fixing a mistake.

All too glad Snape had not started the first class she'd be attending with a volatile potion, Hermione whirred and whizzed around the room, answering questions and helping where she could.

Snape shadowed the proceedings from the front of the class. According to him it was only right to have Hermione to experience the chaos of a third year potions class as a baptism of fire. She mustn't think teaching is an easy job.

When she was just helping a pair of students out with the proper way to dispose of the left over parts of the mistletoe plant, Snape broke from his silently watchful position.

"Mr. Abbadon. Abbadon. Nathan!"

At one of the rows further back in the old classroom, a boy with blond curls haloing a tiny round face was looking terrified of having incurred his professor's wrath. "Sorry Sir! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to-"

"Mr. Abbadon, Mrs. Granger has done many commendable things, that is granted, but staring at her won't make _your_ potion better. You almost knocked over your spare Lethe river water, it's rather an expensive ingredient."

Hermione had turned to watch the incident and saw the little boy blush fiercely.

"Sorry professor," he mumbled with his head hanging down like a sad puppy.

"Make sure you pay more attention next time. Resume brewing everyone." Then Snape returned to his desk, leisurely flipping through the pages of an vintage looking leather-bound tome with gilded floral inlay on the spine.

Hermione moved one brewing station closer to Nathan, "don't forget the sprigs of valerian either, and it's 2 drops of Lethe river water, not just one" she told a couple students before turning around and getting at Nathan's eye level. He looked like he was about to cry.

"Shh, don't worry. Your potion is actually turning a beautiful colour, did you know?"

He looked at her with watery eyes. "Really?"

"Yes, really."

"I promise I wasn't staring m- miss," he said, interrupted by his own half-hearted little sobs, "I've just never met anyone f- famous."

She winked at him. "You'll get used to me hopefully."

He gave her a watery smile.

Hermione was glad he seemed to be somewhat okay again. Severus, pardon, Professor Snape had been a little harsh on him, but she wasn't sure if she should mention it to him on her first day of interning.

There were only 15 more minutes of class left, so she decided to hang back for a little while.

Snape briefly looked up from his tome, scratched his chin for a moment and focused on the book again. There was something quite fetching behind the sneer on the war worn face. When he was calm or concentrated his scowl relaxed slightly, and when he read a good book – and when he sleeps, Hermione mused – his features relaxed, revealing a tired, scarred but ultimately quite handsome face.

After a while he looked up again, inspected his hourglass and instructed the students to hand in their potions and be dismissed.

Once the students were gone Snape told Hermione he'd need to speak to her about how the lesson went after he finished teaching.

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A/N:

Please review, they're the main things that keep me continuing to write chapters for a story. Even if it's just an emoji.  
Also you're very welcome to check out my other fics on my profile. :D


	6. Frozen Winds and Hot Tea

A/N: a question to you all, is the cover image for this story even showing? and another question, on which day(s) of the week do you read the most fanfiction?

CHANGES: Okay, while writing this chapter I found I felt it fit this story better if Hermione returned to Hogwarts in a position such as teaching assistant, so I've edited chapter one, and some minor changes took place in those chapters to make it fit in with it. I also came up with ways to make this story much more complicated with subplots and plots and new things and references and oh gosh what am I doing to myself. It was already quite complicated the way it was.

Once again, reviews are immensely appreciated, they keeeeeep me writing. I'll also be replying to some of the reviews you left me in the post chapter notes!

* * *

 **Ch. 7 - Frozen Winds and Hot Tea**

 **56. _Beta Vulgaris_ (Beetroot) **_The leaf stems of the Beta Vulgaris can be dried and used in potions, the root or bulb cut up and boiled to get a tincture of beet, which is also used in certain wizard beet's juice reacts to certain changes in the acidity or alkalinity in a potion. Only when spelled the right way and skilfully brewn into the draught it's juice can be used as an indicator, the function varying depending on the potion. One such potion is the rare Tessagape draught, which can be mixed into drinks, the colour of which can indicate which type of the four Greek loves the drinker feels for the person who poured the drink. It will colour the last few drops left in the glass of a finished drink. The Tessagape draught is notoriously difficult to brew and even when brewn, difficult to dosage into a drink, as the taste and colour of the potion can shine through before the drinker has consumed the beverage. The detection of the potion by the drinker will often result in them not finishing the drink, when they believe it has been spiked, leaving the potion unable to do its job. This is why – when used - it is often mixed in with strong tasting drinks. The beetroot plant and its tincture can also be used to aid the detoxification process after having drunk or accidentally ingested small amounts of volatile potions. If the potion is to strong however, this plant will not do enough to remedy its effects, other measures will be necessary. Safety precautions are to be taken accordingly. It can help with fevers as well as headaches when extracts of it are worked into medicine._

For a season characterised by copious amounts of rainwater, the autumn weather was quite mellow during the morning. Still, it was cold enough to see little puffs of breaths in the air and Hermione had some hours to fill before Snape finished his lessons and she would speak to him.

This was why she was currently on her way to meet up with Harry and Ron at Hagrid's for tea and biscuits. In an effort to get some more exercise in, she took a detour past the great lake. Each of her breaths floated by itself, a trail of tiny puffy clouds left behind her as she walked.

The closer she came to the open space around the lake, the sharper the winds were blowing. She pulled her scarf a little tighter around her. The autumnal afternoon sun often showed off a beautiful shimmer on the rippling waters of the lake.

After Hermione and Ron's break-up, Harry had played a key-role in the swift patch up of their shared friendship. He worked his social ties to implore the newspapers to stop publishing sensation pieces exaggerating the events, and often spoke to Ron and Hermione about the waste it would be to throw such a friendship away. He thought it would be particularly sad because it was not as if no-one had seen it coming. Somewhere, somehow, it had always felt a little to brotherly and sisterly. Though she and Ron were definitely closely bonded, Hermione had always felt that it was lacking a little passion, a slow sensuously burning fire at the pit of her stomach, which she missed.

And Molly Weasley had missed Hermione. Despite the - incident - she insisted Hermione attended every family function and regularly invited her over for dinner. This hospitality quickly normalised the situation after the breakup. As far as Molly was concerned, Hermione was one of her own.

Hermione held a hand above her to block out the sun, low on the horizon. The chikadees we're growing bigger by the day, but being plump and not much bigger than a fist at their current stage, only waddled away furtively when approached. Unlike their full-grown counterparts with iridescent blue and purple plumage and no sense of shame, these little ones were still easily startled.

Clouds drew over the blue sky like a blanket on a bed, but instead of having the comforting warmth of a blanket, it turned terribly chilly. The weather had been rainy and oddly inconsistent the last few weeks. Some of the switched had been so sudden and unexpected there was a magical air to it.

She watched the water sway and shimmer, the surface was only broken momentarily by one of the tentacles of the giant squid. Sometimes she wondered what it knew about the war that had taken place.

It wasn't long until she came past the first few rows of pumpkins on the way to the cottage, seeped into her clothes. She walked a little quicker, wanting to be somewhere sheltered and with a cup of something deliciously warm, but also because the unnaturally sudden cold reminded her of the dementor attacks. It unsettled her to her very core and brought back many unwanted memories of times she'd hoped had given a place inside. She had no such luck and hastened to a jog as her face was battered by the cold.

The gale blew so harshly that Hermione arrived on Hagrid's doorstep wildly shivering. She knocked once, though she doubted whether he'd have heard it. Her partly frost-bitten fist nearly hit the door when she knocked again, but missed it as it swung open.

"Ah, good to see ye 'Mione! 'Ave you seen the chickadees? Aren't they lovel-" He grabbed her by the shoulders. "'Mione, whats 'appened to you?! You look like you've seen a ghost. "

"It got really cold," she said, slightly confused.

His brows furrowed. " 'S been goin' on for a few weeks now. But I bet the staff's working on it. Don't worry 'bout it Hermione, there's nowt they can't fix 'ere at Hogwarts."

He leaned outside the door to see if there was anyone else. He closed it and leant in secretively as he lead Hermione to the middle of the cottage, where mugs of steaming tea and chocolate were waiting for them. No sign of Harry and Ron yet. "I've heard it's got summat to do with the Hogwarts protection wards in the Forbidden Forest. They've been sending me and my new dog Duke 'ere out on patrols to check them. Can't find nothin' though."

A large slobbering dog looked up at her absentmindedly as some drool slipped out of his mouth onto the floor.

Hermione laughed quietly. "Hi Duke."

He wagged his tail slowly in response.

"Ah see, 'e likes you 'Mione! By the way, remind me to mention the situation of the weather to Harry and Ron too, I think we should let the aurors know just in case. I'm sure Minerva would agree."

"I hope Hogwarts' staff is able to find something quickly Hagrid." She shuddered in the too large chair. "There's a difference between late autumn and whatever this is supposed to be."

Hagrid sat down as he handed Hermione a steaming mug of tea. "Well, from what I know, 's that we've been 'aving unnaturally cold spells at Hogwarts for this time of year. The teachers have been whispering that these spells are abnormal. Magical even. The temperature can drop from pleasant to nearly freezing within the space of half an hour."

"You just warm up by the fire, nice and cosy."

A little while later Harry and Ron knocked on the door. They didn't seem to have had as much of a problem with the weather. The trio fell into a tight hug at their little reunion, it had been a while since they had the chance to see each other at leisure. Hagrid looked on, one eye watering at the sight of these three, who had been damaged during the war but weren't broken. Who had restored so much for their world, for their kind.

The next few hours all four of them sat, drinking tea and catching up, happy to be where they were.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"So, miss Granger, how do you explain your lateness this morning?"

She stood straight in defiance. "It was an accident, it won't happen again."

It had only been because Draco had teased her at the breakfast table, and had spelled her books to flap around the prefects' corridor like butterflies that she hadn't been able to get there on time. Then again, she was merely seconds late.

Something clicked in her mind. "I think I've more than made up for it in that verbal embarrassment I had to go through, thanks to the students. With all respect, I thought you of all teachers had your students in line," she cut, a little sharper than she wanted to, and then remembered herself, "- sir."

Scared wasn't quite the word, but going against his grain still sent a thrill through her veins. _Better set the balance right from the start._

Severus' jaw tensed. "Well... young mister Fairclough has proved to be... a particularly difficult case. Especially when confronted with ...," he was choosing his words carefully, "...women which he considers appealing."

Hermione felt a slight blush creep up her cheek, but decided not to dwell on that too much. "Well- erm,okay. I hadn't expected an easy ride to start with. It was... challenging to keep track of such a large class."

"I think you dealt with his remarks... appropriately," he conceded not wanting to drag it out any further – he had tons of papers to mark, "just make sure you'll be on time from now on. What potion do you want to learn after our session on Sunday?"

She had thought about this more than she wanted to admit. Many a meal had been spend pondering over whether she should go with something complicated immediately, or warm up to the more complicated ones by starting out with something relatively less complex and maybe more common in everyday situations. It had been a little while since she focused on potions. Snape probably expected her to pick something never seen before as soon as she got the chance. Yet, she wanted to start with a clean slate, both in a potions sense, and in a reputation sense.

"I've considered my options, and for the first one, I'd like to learn an updated version of Antidote to Common Poisons, please. I think it would be practical in many situations."

"A practical choice indeed. I see we are not shooting for the stars yet - it's not as complex as many of the others. You are not suspecting me of planning on poisoning my own assistant are you?" She did not get a chance to interject before he continued. "That'll be it then. Antidote to Common Poisons. By the way - miss Granger - I thought you did adequately for your first time."

He strode away, not hearing Hermione's shyly whispered, "thank you, sir."

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A/N:

please review, it keeps me writing. Constructive stuff welcome of course, this is my first long fic. Hope you're having a good day!

Random fact nr 1.: I once wrote a 'dancing with the stars/strictly come dancing' AU fic with many of our favourite characters.

\- JainaAngel (I hope you're reading this 'cause yours was a guest review) ; I read it and took it to heart, I went back and shortened that section quite a bit. Thanks for being constructive and thanks for the compliment!

\- guest 1; thank you so much for leaving the first review on my first long fic. guest 2; thanks!

\- JayBat: thank you, for reading, I can always count on you for some constructive pointers and praise. you rock.

\- vadimmom; thanks!

\- Rhodabush; I think you're one of the most consistent reviewers, thank you so much. I appreciate every single one of them.

\- Jessie14040 & purplehedgehog13: thank you!

I'll respond to some more next chapter!

woah, just before publishing this chapter I had a random burst of inspiration, and wrote about 4k worth of chapters and bits and pieces for this fic, however, most of those are for later in the story. You're going to have to wait for those bits a little while longer, but I like them.


	7. Sound and (Awkward) Silence

**A/N: Woe me, I've been listening to a lot of sad songs lately, however, for some reason the music helped me pump out a couple thousand words of this story (every cloud... right?). I split this into two chapters as otherwise it would be one 5k chapter while the other's average at around 2k. Pls comment what you think, it really helps with editing and just the writing process. Knowing there are readers keeps my pace up.**

* * *

 **Chapter 8 – Sound and (Awkward) Silence**

 _ **55\. Actaea Racemosa** **(** **Black Cohosh)**_

 _When buried in the ground in front of an entrance, Black Cohosh is believed to prevent physical evil from entering the home – thus it is not effective against non-corporeal dark forces - and when used appropriately it can aid the deactivation of tricks or jinxes on a room. However, the success of this power seems to depend on an unknown factor; suspected influences are the phases of the moon or the flowering of nearby plants from certain families. Some witches or wizards have been known to sprinkle the dried and crushed Black Cohosh around their gardens in hopes of protecting their plants from critters with bad intentions towards the them. When spread inside the home and swept out, well-grown and consequently powerful Black Cohosh has the ability to take traces of dark magic with it, and so it can be used as a cleansing agent._

The post-dinner rush hour bustle in the hallways had just about cleared up as Hermione left the Great Hall on her way to the prefect corridors.

On a bench a few second year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were reading together, while some first years chased each other down the hallway back to their common rooms. In a slightly more secluded area of the hallway she saw a Ravenclaw girl sneak a kiss onto the lips of her Gryffindor boyfriend. Hermione smiled inwardly, glad to see others enjoy the peace at Hogwarts which was often still taken for granted.

The sun was setting earlier and earlier, and it's low position on the horizon cast the prefects' common room in an atmospheric warm light as she rushed to grab her bag. Draco looked agitated – she decided to leave him alone - and Conall was charming blobs of water to fly around the room's chandelier like see-through planets.

Just as she was about to turn and leave for the dungeons Draco came up to her, his face like a storm. "Hermione, I need to talk to you right now." His skin looked a little paler than it usually did.

"Draco, can't it wait until after my session tonight, he'll absolutely go mad if I'm late for anything once more. I was already late for my first lesson thanks to you."

He didn't seem to take much in of her dismissal. "Hermione, I was walking around the grounds today and- and..."

She felt a little heated, this was unlike him. "Draco, what is it?"

"When I walked to the edge of the grounds past the lake today, you know, the part where it gets all flat behind the hill, with all the trees, everything just, changed. It felt... it felt different."

Hermione frowned a little and Draco looked more agitated than he did when she had walked in.

He looked at his shoes. "Forget about it. It's probably nothing at all." He huffed and moved back to the couch.

"Draco I-," Hermione started as he sat down.

He gave a dismissive wave. "Just go to your meeting with Snape. I'll talk to you tonight."

She shrugged and turned on her heels.

Descending the stairs towards the lower corridors that were mostly privately used by the teachers, and the air got damper with each step.

Hermione was startled when a lopsided chandelier jingled wildly a few meters behind her, she turned and she felt a brush on her shoulder. She heard a distant chuckle.

A bright blue light flashed through the wall. "WOOOOOOH!"

"Merlin! Peeves, how many times have I told you?!"

Something, or rather, someone, ruffled her curls until they frizzed to all sides. "Uhm, about a thousand?" His head jiggled from his laughter, the tassel on his hat moving wildly behind him. "On the way to the bat's private caves are you? Hahahahahaha, good luck with that! He's been pacing and pacing since he came back, and he's normally so quiet after dinner."

She huffed and tried to set on the correct path again. "Yeah, I'm sure you are just trying to make me nervous." _I was sure I should take the left passage here..._

"Aw! Come now little 'Mione," he made kissy noises at her, "'s just a joke!"

"Merlin, Peeves I'm not _little 'Mione_ to you, I work here now. It's miss Granger, or just Hermione if you must."

His belly was still shaking with laughter. "Definitely not little 'Mione anymore with those curves!" He wolf whistled loudly after her.

"Peeves this is not funny!"

"Just kidding, 'Mione!"

Peeves jingled the chandelier a few times more, the lightly green and yellow hued lights flickered once, then twice, and then the whole corridor was covered in pitch black.

"I see your sense of humour hasn't improved," Hermione called as she stalked off in what was hopefully the right direction.

Peeves flew back up the stairs without. "I see yours hasn't either!" he shouted as swirled in a corkscrew motion. She heard one loud "wooo" and saw his faint light quickly make its way back up the stairs, leaving her in the darkness.

With the lights still off, she fumbled for her wand. "Lumos," she whispered, and walked on. She held her hand along the lightly damp walls to feel for stability – obviously they hadn't extended the improvements in ventilation from the potions classroom to this part of the lower corridors.

She found a couple of doors with some stairs to their right. Those seemed like the best option so knocked but there was no reply. _Must've been the wrong one._

Hermione waited a few seconds, and as she made a move to try another corridor the door opened and Snape moved aside to invite her in. "I see you have found it in yourself to make it on time today. A little early even," he mumbled with what Hermione hoped was slightly approving tone in his voice.

"I wanted-," she started, but reconsidered. She was not in the mood to waste her breath on this subject before she'd even made it through the doorway. "Yes sir."

He moved, fully opening the doorway. "I see you have also managed to somehow break the lighting in the hallways."

"Peeves, sir." She replied as she walked into the room.

"Ah."

A few cupboards, three brewing stations - which seemed to be of a much nicer quality than those in the classrooms - and a large heavy wooden table with a few chairs were the main features of the space. A couple of bookcases lined the wall next to the door she'd just entered through. For the dampness in the gloomy corridors, she had not expected the fresh air here.

He watched her inspect the room. "Well, this is my largest personal room. I brew most of the potions I use for teaching here, and I prepare components the students aren't yet ready to work with here."Through a window on the far wall, the coloured sky was visible. But it wasn't quite clear what the window looked out over; it was slightly too high up.

The coarse Hogwarts stone of the walls was illuminated by some lanterns and the fire from the hearth. Though the room was neat and pleasant enough, there didn't seem to be many personal touches, but a few glimmering pieces of spell-o-tape left on the doors of the storage cupboards suggested there might have been some papers there until recently.

"So the rules, miss Granger. Firstly, never touch my personal store cupboards without my explicit permission. Secondly, that door," he pointed to a door at the side of the bookcase furthest away from them, "is out of bounds for you."

She tried not to let his tone get to her. "Sure, sir."

He was wearing slightly more laid back clothes than during daytime. His tightly tailored jacket was replaced by a black dress shirt – no cravat or neck tie – though he still wore a cloak, perhaps just to establish his position.

"Thirdly, this is my private brewing room, treat it as such. You are the guest." His tone lingered for a bit.

"And?"

"Nothing, this is all for now. I need you to prepare some ingredients for me. Could you cut up the dried slug guts, and roast the mistletoe berries – only a few at a time – and then boil the two in the water with the bezoars seeping in it over there. This should give you a slimy base for some potions I'm developing. When you are done you can put it in the empty Erlenmeyers with the corks over there. Then you can get started on cutting up popping berries - and do try not to pop them - for the next in-class tutorial. Questions?"

"Do I take the bezoars out before boiling?"

"Naturally. Get to work now." He turned with a swish of his cloak, and walked to the oak table to work on a stack of papers.

Hermione put her bag down next to the brewing station and grabbed the jars and bags of the ingredients he had set out for her. The station's drawer held beautifully carved ebony and silver knives.

When she opened the jar of dried slug guts, she couldn't help but grimace from the smell. In reflex she shot a look to Snape at the table, who had picked a chair facing the little window on the wall. His cloak was draped over one of the arms of the chair.

He looked to his right, at Hermione, very briefly but didn't say anything and focused on his papers again.

 _Well, the first blow is half the battle. Better get this cut up as fast as possible._

Snape didn't utter a word as he scribbled on the parchments he was working on. However, his tetchy movements seemed to imply he was marking a particularly infuriating essay.

"What are you working on sir?" Hermione asked, in part to distract herself from the icky feeling on her hands.

His shoulders tightened. "A second year's essay on Murtlap essence." No further explanation.

"It seems to agitate you, what's wrong with it?"

"While I appreciate your concern for my emotional well-being-" he spat, "-do mind your slugs guts. They won't cut themselves up. And be sure not to lose any of the popping berries when you're working on them. This was a particularly good batch."

"Well, sorry sir, I am just trying to make conversation."

"I'd rather you don't."

Hermione drew a steadying breath "Then why, with all due respect, do you insist on doing the prep together?"

He spoke a little quicker this time. "So I can keep an eye on whether you are preparing them to my standards."

Hermione was panting slightly. "Sir, how much I do appreciate this opportunity, if this is going to last for an as of yet undetermined amount of time, surely we'd both be more comfortable if-"

"I'm usually quite partial to my silence, ms Granger, and you'd do well to heed that."

She'd not expected him to be like this in private. The awkward silence still perforated the atmosphere. _That strange chill earlier must've been his personality,_ she huffed to herself nervously.

A little downtrodden she returned to her mindless task of separating and cutting. After a while she had split all the useless nasty bits from the useable parts, and laid them in one of the pewter trays on the table where Snape was working.

Careful not to touch the wrong bits, she lighted a burner to start the berries. It would have been nice if they would at least have been plucked, but there was no such luck. These berries were absolutely fresh, which was rare considering that these are so hard to grow most wizards and witches buy them dried to rehydrate when they're needed. These however, were still attached to the stems, some still had the curly blue leaves surrounding the marble sized berries.

Snape had just stood up to inspect the slugs, seemed pleased enough, and sat down again.

She stared at him from across the brewing station, fumbling with a twig. "Where did you get them fresh?"

He looked up from his papers, looking slightly tested. "A wizard must keep his secrets ms Granger. Please continue."

"I was just admiring the fact that you've managed to get your hands on fresh popping berries."

"I see you are still as talkative as ever." His voice had risen a little at the end of the sentence. "Now miss Granger, continue or I'll never get these essays checked in time, before I ask you to raise your hand before speaking."

Heat rose along her neck, and she hoped to Merlin that she wasn't blushing. There were no further attempts to talk to him for a good part of an hour, just a deafening silence. Only two ways out of here, and those looked extremely tempting right now.

She hopped from her left to her right foot to ease some of the tension from standing until the berries had been roasted properly and the slime base was bubbling away.

Snape had moved to one of the chairs by the fire and seemed to be reading an old tome.

About 15 minutes of boiling later the base had turned the exact shade of blue-ish green she needed, poured it into the erlenmeyers. She said a polite but quiet goodbye and, and left.

Outside the door she stood for a second, and made a conscious effort to relax her shoulders and release some of the pent up tension with a few deep breaths. _I could do with a day off._

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

When she re-entered the prefect's common it was already dark outside, but before she could take a seat Draco was walking towards her. "Now, we really need to talk," he said as he grabbed her by the elbow and lead her outside the door again. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth at her stunned look. "Don't look so bloody surprised, it's got nothing to do with you personally."

"Okay?"

"Oh whatever, it's better if I show you."

He started walking away, and Hermione had no other choice than to follow with the snake like grip on her arm.

When they entered the common hallway there were some prefects on evening patrol who nodded in acknowledgement. Draco's reciprocating nod was so short it seemed more like a twitch than a greeting, but when he stopped abruptly Hermione almost walked into him.

"Draco what in the w-"

He dropped her arm as if it burned, and Hermione looked properly what had stopped them. Just in front of them stood Snape, looking less than amused at the sight of one of the Slytherin prefects dragging one of the school's E.L.F.'s - and coincidentally also his assistant - around in the evening. "What... are you two up to?"

Draco stared him straight in the eye. "Nothing in particular sir, I was about to show Hermione some interesting parts of the Hogwarts grounds." Draco had never been as intimidated by Snape in the way many other students were.

"I'm sure miss Granger is well acquainted with the grounds herself. But... if you insist, mr Malfoy. Do make sure you don't do anything I'll have to deduct points for, or worse, I'd have to tell your father about..."

Hermione felt herself flush slightly at the suggestion – where had Snape gotten that idea from? - but there was no time to think about it.

"Sir." Draco replied, grabbing Hermione's elbow again.

As they moved, she looked behind them towards Snape, who glanced at her and raised a questioning eyebrow. But the look was fleeting, and as she was whisked away, Snape walked in the direction of the prefect's common holding something that reminded her very much of her own bag.

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A/N: Please read and review, it means a lot to me. Thanks for your support. Had a tough few weeks but your reviews keep inspiring me.


	8. By the Pricking of my Thumbs

I've shortened chapter 2 and 3 and combined them into one, so yeah if the counting of the chapters seems off, that is what happened.

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 **By the Pricking of my Thumbs...**

 _ **34\. Foeniculum vulgare (Fennel).**_ _Fennel can be used in charms and potions to ward against a varied assortment of ill-meaning creatures and powers, from wizards to elves and pixies. It is very effective in treatment for and protection against elf-shot. Furthermore, it enhances the gift of magical sight and understanding, and can give one the ability to see hidden anger and pain, creeping threats of hidden illness and truth about ambiguous behaviour, though only when prepared right._ _  
 _One can take a fresh sprig of fennel and dip it into water, to sprinkle that water around your home for protection. Drink it in tea or smoke the seeds in a sfumatora like you would smoke incense in a room for protection. Fennel can also help spiritual understanding, open your heart to others and promote emotional stability when consumed in for example tea, or otherwise magically activated and then added to sustenance.__

The gradually increasing density of bushes and trees made it more difficult to keep up their pace, but Draco persevered.

Hermione sighed. The day had already been long enough already. "Draco with all this odd weather I'd rather prefer to stay inside, can't you show me tomorrow?"

"No."

"No?"

He pulled her along the paths swiftly, never stopping except briefly when a path veered off in different directions. They'd both cast a _lumos_ as soon as they stepped outside, and the light of the two flares illuminated the misty swirls along the ground. There were no other human sounds except for the snapping and crisping of their steps on the twigs and leaves. A few lonely owlish hoots broke through the crunching and the stridulating of crickets from time to time as they made their way through moonlight dappled undergrowth.

Hermione followed Draco over a slight hill, along the edge of the wards. He slowed, entering a clearing. The undergrowth was oddly thin here, unlike a few meters back where it grew rampant.

Draco slowed when they came to a space where the trees thinned out until it reached the edge of the Hogwarts wards. A short distance from the wards the density of the trees increased again. There were no particularly visible signs of a border, but muggles would never feel the need to cross, but automatically veered away.

Magical beings however, could feel the gargantuan magic of the wards buzz in tune with their own, kin acknowledging kin. Only, when they passed a space a bit further from where they had left the path the buzzing felt off, instead of a solid comforting push, it pulsed. With each irregular pulse a wind-less cold seemed to emanate from wards and caress the clearing.

Hermione noticed the owls and crickets were silent here, as if holding their breath for something to come. "Draco..."

There was no need for Draco to tell her this was the place he meant. Throughout the partly open space tree saplings had snapped and hung limply next to their bigger examples. Many of the plants that would have previously been part of the undergrowth in this area were either taken or magically destroyed, the last remnants of a fire spell still lingered. It seemed the earth across the slight clearing had been disturbed, someone, or something had been digging here. Some plants were still intact; a couple of sweeping stems of black cohosh, some amaranth and a lone Sansevieria plant.

There was a soft crack of wood to Hermione's left, and both the witch and the wizard jumped back. Their movement pushed a flurry of leaves behind them, spreading a damp and earthy smell through the clearing.

"Who's there?" Draco snapped to the shadowed trees with his back to the wards - but no answer came.

The moving shadows of the trees in the moonlight seemed to lead a life of their own.

"Who's there?" Draco said again as he stepped once in the direction of the sound, wand at the ready.

When there was still no reply, Hermione followed behind, and whispered " _Lumos maxima_." The bright beam of light burst from her wand and scattered through the denser thickets past the clearing, but there was nothing.

A soft hiss moved from the space where they heard the crack towards where the wards ran along the borders of the Hogwarts grounds. They followed the sound with a feline stalk, Draco keeping his wand aimed precisely.

Hermione felt her heart pulse. "Draco, no sudden movements..."

Then there was cracking sound and a hiss in front of them now. Draco turned and Hermione tried to step back to get a better look, but tripped in one of the pits and fell. The thing in the shadows twitched at the sound of the fall, and moved at the base of the Sansevieria.

A thick glistening, dark adder slithered from the undergrowth into the light of Draco's wand. He held out a hand shielding Hermione, who was still on the ground. "Don't move," he said softly.

The adder reared its head and hissed, baring a set of gleaming golden fangs at the both of them, its vile eyes shining in the wand light. Hermione noticed it was bigger than average, it had an oddly conscious gaze.

" _Sectum Sempra_!" Draco yelled, but he missed the adder by a mere inch and his spell obliterated one of the leftover sweet pea plants with a bright white burst of magic.

Half-engulfed in the smoke, the adder gave an ear-drum shattering hiss, and scurried off through the messed up earth and broken saplings, past the wards into the empty darkness beyond the Hogwarts grounds.

Hermione stared after it for a brief moment of relief, her temples damp with sweat.

"We're good, we're good," Draco reaffirmed with a heavy breath. "How are you 'Mione?"

"I'm afraid to say you're right Draco, something is not okay here. We have to tell Minerva as soon as possible."

"We'll tell them," he stated solemnly. Then, Draco recollected himself and gave a nervous laugh. "Thanks by the way, Gryffindor. I thought you were supposed to be the brave ones."

"Brave, but not daft." She stood and brushed the clumps of earth off her clothes. "Besides, we cannot do anything right now. It's late, I'm tired, and I'm sure you are too."

As soon as Draco stepped out of the clearing a distant, male yell sounded, followed by the sound of several sets of hoofs quickly galloping closer. He took a few steps back and stood next to Hermione, extending his arm in a subconscious effort to shield her.

Several heartbeats later a tautly muscled centaur stepped into the clearing, his bow and arrow drawn and aimed at the ground. He pointed it towards Draco and Hermione without hesitation as soon as he spotted them. His reddish beard was neatly groomed, and gleaming copper chest and body which ended in an autumn brown tail, shone in the dim light of the moon.

"Who are you two and why are you out here at this time of night?" the centaur inquired icily.

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 **Reviews help keep my pace up, they're incredibly motivating! constructive criticism helps me hone my skills ^^**


	9. Gestures

**_AN. Hi, nice to see you back! Or if you're new: welcome, lovely to have you here!_**

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 **Chapter 9. Gestures**

 ** _144\. Narcissus Jonquila_** **(Daffodils)** _The flowers of this plant have, for centur_ _ies, been used in spells related to unrequited love as well as those relating to new beginnings. Ironically, this flower is used to symbolise both death and rebirth. For a long time it had been used in funeral rites, but it is also said that a bouquet of yellow narcissus flowers in the bedroom will increase fertility for anyone in the room. All in all it is a very ambiguous plant, and therefore needs to be handled with care when used in magical ventures. In mythology the Narcissus was the flower that Persephone was distracted by, which allowed Hades to abduct her. Therefore, a single narcissus blooming on its own, symbolises bad luck or danger._

"Who are you?" the centaur asked.

"We're Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger," Hermione spoke evenly.

Behind the copper centaur followed another. Only this one was slightly taller, with a broad chin, golden brown skin and coal black hair. "Have you found it?" he asked the first one.

He didn't take his eyes nor his aim off Hermione and Draco. He cocked his head at them. "I found these two, Magorian, a witch and wizard."

Magorian studied them intently. "Thank you, Ronan," he said, and gestured that he could lower his aim. He stepped into the clearing fully, past Ronan. "Why are you here at this hour? We sensed a presence, something has been tampering with the wards here..."

Hermione took charge, and decided honestly would be the best policy with the two centaurs. "Draco had indeed told me he had found a disturbance along the wards, and wanted to show me."

"Hmm... we thought we'd finally caught up with it," said the raven haired Magorian doubtfully.

Ronan nodded to Draco. "You, Malfoy boy, you've got anything to do with creating this?" The centaur waved at the mess in the area clearing. He cantered a few steps towards one of the last unmarked trees lining the clearing and let his hands roam over the bark. "I suppose you have no idea about these either." Several of the trees around the space had aggressive scars on them, some just one, some multiple, both carved and painted. Hastily but deeply carved magical runes. The copper haired centaur stroked one unmarked tree like a beloved pet. "These marks are still fresh, the edges sharp."

"I swear I haven't! I came across this clearing a couple of days ago, and much damage had already been done, and I thought Hermione should-"

"And why should I believe you? You've helped people cross the Hogwarts wards before..." behind Magorian Ronan raised his bow again.

There was another cold pulse all around and everyone shivered for a moment. For a moment Hermione could smell the ash of the obliterated sweet pea plant.

She laid a hand on Draco's shoulder. "He has –" she swallowed, "he has learned from those... those times. He's not like that anymore." Draco's stealthy stare at the centaurs faltered for a moment as he looked at Hermione's face from aside; she didn't break eye contact with the centaurs towering over them.

Magorian followed Draco's gaze, then the centaur's eyes widened with recognition. "You," he said pointing at Hermione, "you were with the boy, the chosen one, the one Firenze rescued. You helped tear the ropes from my neck when the pink woman..." he seemed lost in the memory for a moment. "The little foal is all grown up now. You've grown, girl."

Draco held his breath. The moon had moved across the sky by a decent distance since they entered the forest.

Hermione blinked and looked away for a moment. "Yes, I was the girl who was with Harry."

Magorian thought for a moment before addressing Draco and Hermione once more. "What are you two to each other?"

Hermione answered first. "We are friends ."

Ronan circled them nervously. "Do you trust him?"

Draco and Hermione made passing eye contact with each other. "Yes," she said, "I do."

For a moment the centaurs stood in silence, merely not speaking but having a wordless conversation through their looks, and perchance, their magic.

Magorian stretched his arm muscles languidly and strained his neck to look up at the skies, while Ronan concentrated, not following along but keeping his bow drawn in preparation. Draco and Hermione looked on with baited breath.

Ronan squinted at Magorian and nudged his chin at the two on the ground. "What do the stars tell you Magorian? What are we to do with these two?"

The wards pulsed again. Hermione found her knees trembling and slumped against one of the marked trees.

Magorian scrutinised the stars for a moment longer. "I believe the girl," he said curtly, then looked at Malfoy again with narrowed eyes, "as for you, Malfoy, you are lucky to have her. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt." He looked at his copper bearded friend. "Ronan, we'll escort them back to the other side of the forest. It's late and it might still be out there."

"Do you take me for some common mule Magorian? I will not play transport just because -"

"Hush, I do not ask you to carry them, nor are we going to. We will escort them, this clearing has been tampered with, it's unsafe, and I owe the girl..."

Hermione let out a shaky breath, her magic pulsed on the same beat as the wards like migraine. The ground tilted under her, and the leaves of the trees lost their definition, her view becoming unfocused, the colors vaguer with every moment.

Draco's brows furrowed. "Are you okay 'Mione?"

Her eyelids became heavier with every passing second. She leant back into the tree for support, the coarse bark scratching her cloak. "Hmm?"

"What's with the girl?" Magorian inquired.

"I don't know," Draco turned to her and shook her shoulders gently. His voice rose a pitch when she didn't respond. "Hermione, stay awake."

Her eyes looked hazy and distant. Draco pulled her from against the tree. "Hermione, come on, we need to get back to the castle."

She looked around, not quite feeling in the moment, but looking a little more awake. "What was that?"

Draco he slung one of Hermione's arms along his shoulders and his own arm around her waist. "Not sure. Do you think you can walk?"

"I think so. I suppose it's just been a very long day."

The centaurs went ahead, weeding through the bushes and trees to clear their minute party a path. Draco followed behind supporting Hermione.

Magorian and Ronan said their goodbyes once they had set the two on the path that would take them straight past Hagrid's hut.

When they re-entered the warmth of the halls, where professor Sprout, and Filch were finishing up the building for the night, Hermione had regained most of her strength.

Though his muscles burned from the exertion, Draco was still hesitant to let her walk alone. She'd looked so fragile and pale against that tree, and it happened so suddenly.

They trotted up the stairs as quickly as they could without drawing too much attention to themselves, though professor Sprout watched them curiously for a moment. Even though Hermione and Draco were a class apart from both teachers and students, no one really ever got back from outside this late.

The homely comforting smell of their common room was a welcome change from the pulsing cold she'd experienced in the last hour or two. Hermione flopped onto the first couch she could find– even her bones felt tired to the core – when she saw her brown leather messenger bag on the communal table. On it lay an envelope like the one she got a while ago, with its midnight blue seal with the six-petal... Asphodel flower? Only now she had seen the plant once again in the clearing she recognised it on the seal. The envelope still didn't state a sender, but she knew who it was from. It's spindly handwriting was instantly recognisable.

 _"Miss Granger, you left something behind when you last saw me, so I hope this finds its way to you. Furthermore, you departed before I could teach you the potion you chose. We will need to rectify that some time in the near future.  
Yours truly, Severus Snape"_

She groaned, but eventually rose from the red velvet seat to begin her bedtime routine. Conall Frazer had fallen asleep a leather armchair a few meters away, and she laid a fleece comforter over his legs to keep him warm.

When she lay in her bed later she dreamt of runes and mist, plants, adders and centaurs. Whatever was happening in that clearing wasn't normal, but it had to wait until later, because the pull of exhaustion was too great, and she fell into a restless sleep.

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A/N: if you have any comments, or perhaps praise if you think it's in order, I'd love to hear it :D I'd love to get some comments before posting the next one.

Also does Severus strike you as a person for tattoos? apart from well... the death eater one?

you're welcome to check out my other fics on my profile if you'd like to


	10. It's Dark Outside

**A/N: tried to get this up earlier, but it was a close call. I really struggled with this took me quite a lot of hours to get this onto the page. Do let me know what you think :) Welcome to all the new readers by the way!**

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 **10\. It's Dark Outside**

 _ **224\. Mistletoe**_ _Mistletoe is an interesting plant as it is a hemiparasite, meaning it can grow on its own and create nutrients via photosynthesis, but can also act a parasite, lodging its roots in the trunk of the host-tree and taking up nutrients from it. Though it can grow on its own, the overwhelming majority of mistletoe plants is actually found growing on trees. It's often seen on apple trees and also, but much more rarely, oak trees. Because of its rarity oak mistletoe was greatly admired by the ancient Celts and Germans. Celtic druids used to harvest mistletoe on the sixth night of the moon with a golden sickle. Mistletoe harvested on the winter- or midsummer solstice is significantly more potent._

 _Mistletoe can be used in potions, though only when carefully brewn because of the toxicity of the plant. Hung from the ceiling and spelled it helps ward off those with evil intent. The berries have the power to aid in forgetfulness potions. It can when prepared differently, also bestow life and fertility upon a drinker or wearer._

"You okay after yesterday, Granger, you seem to have bags under your eyes?"

"Hmm? Yeah." She rested her chin on a fist and studied her ruffled stack of parchments.

The great hall slowly dripped full of students grabbing breakfast, but most teachers were already sitting at the head table. Dappled sunlight streamed through the stained glass of the hall.

Draco touched her shoulder briefly. "Your hair is a mess, well more than usual," he pushed a lock of it from her shoulder, "and you've hardly touched your scrambled eggs." He took a piece of toast off a nearby rack.

She pushed the egg around her plate with her fork. "Yes mom. I'm just working on some schedules for my E.L.F. pupils. I'd like to meet them all before the midterm preparations even start." She looked up at him. "Are you... free tonight? I need to look something up in the library and I could use your help."

"I seem to recall you basically know the catalogue by heart." He took a bite of the toast he was holding. "What do you need me for?" he asked with toast-laden cheeks, inadvertently spreading crumbs over the parchments on the table.

Hermione dusted them off. "Do you mind? And though I wish I could say you're right, I need something-" she lowered her volume, "something that I think might not be in the usual catalogue."

"Ooh," cooed Draco, "Granger breaking the rules? No way I'm missing that. Is it about yesterday?"

"The marks on the trees, they bother me."

"How come?"

"They were runes."

"And?"

"I didn't recognise them."

"So you're bothered because you didn't know something," he chuckled, "come off it Granger."

"No, that's not it. I took my N.E.W.T. in Ancient Runes, surely I should have recognised one, or more, even if I do not remember their exact meaning."

Draco joined her on the bench and swallowed his toast. "Fair enough. What has the Gryffindor princess come up with?"

"I think it's connected to the damage and the adder, perhaps even the pulsing cold. And... that moment when I lay there against the tree and all my energy just..."

"Guess we have a date tonight then," said Draco matter-of-factly.

Hermione flushed. "It's not a date, Draco, and you know it," she admonished. "Speaking of dates, how's the Astoria project?"

Now it was Draco who gained some colour in his cheeks. "Well, I wanted to ask you about that."

"Me?" she snorted, "seriously Draco?"

His cheeks turned a little redder. "You're good with people and... well. You first noticed she was looking. I don't know- you've had some long term stuff and... you know, never mind."

"Draco I'm not laughing at you, I was just surprised you'd ask for _my_ advice on this."

"How do I ask her out?"

"Go and talk to her, be you, be kind. Be the you you've become, not the you some people think you still are. You're both Slytherins, there's bound to be some opportunity somewhere in the common room, when she's free to talk to. Try to get paired up during a lesson or something."

"I just really don't want to mess it up." Then he laughed. "Also, don't look, but it seems Snape is keeping an eye on you again." He glanced to the head-table., where the raven haired professor quickly bent to the side. "Oh, now he's talking to professor Sprout, probably wondering what we did and didn't do yesterday," Draco winked. "He seemed peeved that I kidnapped his assistant."

Hermione pursed her lips. "I'm going to ignore that remark. Also, what happened yesterday was serious, Draco. We were lucky that blasted serpent didn't lash out and that the centaurs were in our favour."

"Well, you just go work on your schedules and study those potions you'll be teaching together with sour-face over there this afternoon."

This only earned Draco a disapproving look. "Draco! He is still your godfather!"

He stood before holding his hands up in a surrendering pose. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He smiled to himself. "Thanks for the advice anyway," he took a piece of toast from Hermione's plate, bent over gently carefully and kissed her forehead. "Not that I couldn't have come up with that myself, naturally."

"Sure, Draco."

.~-~-~-.

Though she had spent at least 3 hours and part of her lunch break going over the potion's she'd help teach this afternoon, Snape had asked her to sit in the back and take notes during both classes. He'd also hardly spoken to Hermione, merely told her he was not inclined to time out of the Wednesday prep session to teach her the [A1] potion they'd missed.

Draco seemed to have been right about Snape's current acidity, he was indeed rather sour. However, when the second hour was finished, Hermione did get a chance to – awkwardly – thank him for bringing back her bag.

She'd spent her dinner working her way through a steaming hot roast chicken pie with vegetables – and lukewarm pumpkin juice. When she'd only just returned to the school McGonagall had said that she would be very welcome at the head table if she'd like to. However, Hermione thought it might be nice to join a table of students she would be helping over the course of the year during some for the meals, to meet them in a more laid-back way.

During the lunch she'd had a nice time, surely, but in the back of her mind she was racking her brain over the glyphs, while absentmindedly poking her fork at her pie.

.~-~-~-.

"So what did they look like up close?"

"Not quite hieroglyphs, not quite traditional futhark runes," mumbled Hermione while leafing through a book. To the left she grabbed a piece of parchment and scribbled something down. "Here, these are a few I remember."

With half her attention still focused on the book, she handed it to Draco, who studied the marks with a furrowed brow.

One heaving motion later Hermione closed the tome she was holding and shoved it back on its shelf. She looked around, dove behind the edge of the row of cupboards to be sure there was nobody else.

"Hermione stop behaving like you're not allowed to be here looking for something. You're making look suspicious like this," urged Draco "it's the restricted section, mostly for students, not forbidden. You're not for anything dark to carry out yourself right. I bet they wouldn't mind you searching around. Better still, why don't you just tell them and let the staff solve it?"

"What, and also have to explain why we were there at that time and how we knew about that clearing? How did you even discover that, what were you doing so far of the beaten path?"[A2]

"I was looking for some stuff for a potion I'm making. What are you looking at?"

"I've left my old schoolbooks in the staff storage units in the deep part of the castle, wasn't feeling like getting them, so I'm first looking at the copies of schoolbooks I've used."

"For what?"

"Hmmm, not in this one either," she murmurs to herself.

"Draco, you didn't take ancient runes but where do you normally see them, the runes?"

"In books? On stone? On parchment?"

"Yes, and the runes we saw were on full grown trees."

The blonde wizard was slowly catching on, realisation of the oddity of the situation dawning on his face.

"They're not mentioned in any of these schoolbooks, which only confirms what I already thought; they were Ander runes."

"What are those?"

"Historically illegal runes only a handful of smaller branches of old families are rumoured to know. They are activated by the family sigil, and can only be used on a carrier that is strong enough, like one of those full grown trees."

"But which spell was carved into the trees?"

"I'm not sure, it was too dark and I wasn't well," she said distractedly, looking around herself as if she expected to see the answer floating in the air. She got more and more puzzled. "I just know they're dangerous and they only work for those families, others will work against you, which is another reason why they are very risky. One wrong placement and.. oh dear... who knows what could happen? We really need the restricted books."

.~-~-~-.

The young Malfoy just turned a corner around one of the creaking shelves in the restricted section when he found Hermione bent over a dilapidated looking black leather book almost engulfed in thorny vine of red gilding along the spine and covers. She folded it open and a gust of wind and years of dust blew off the side of the table.

"Draco...," she breathed, completely drawn in by whatever secrets lay between the pages.

"They were leech runes, energy depleting from magical places. Someone is trying to break through the wards."

* * *

A/N: Hi please leave a review if you'd like, I'd love to get some before I post the next chapter.

shout out to lyght861, your reviews made me smile :) and Jaybat for always being so consistent and kind. Also hi to peccavi, you said you were a new reader, welcome! :) and to all the others for r&r'ing I appreciate it so much, it makes all the time I put into this worth it :D


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